


between the bridle and the spur

by bonebo



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Chastity, Cock Cages, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, M/M, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 12:35:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9657722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonebo/pseuds/bonebo
Summary: Hanzo is at one of the better local coffee shops, patiently waiting in line to order his latte, when he gets the text.





	1. Chapter 1

Hanzo is at one of the better local coffee shops, patiently waiting in line to order his latte, when he gets the text.

It’s a vibration that rattles the pocket of his cargo pants, buzzes against his fingertips when he fishes his phone out. A glance at the lockscreen tells him it’s a message from Jesse--and Hanzo feels the corner of his lips quirk up as he regards the heart emojis on either side of Jesse’s name, remembers the distaste he’d first felt when Hana had snagged his phone and put them there.

He had tried to remove them, days later, and found that Jesse’s name had seemed bare without them. Almost lacking--incomplete.

Now, they’re modified--a heart on one side, a cow on the other--and they make Hanzo roll his eyes at his own foolishness, the silly indulgences he’s allowed himself in his climbing age. With a huff he swipes his unlock code, and waits curiously for the message to pop up.

He’s not expecting a picture of Jesse’s dick.

Hanzo all but chokes on nothing and hastily locks his screen again, looking furtively over his shoulder--there’s no one else in line, but he can’t guarantee how long that will last. He shoves his phone back into his pocket before he walks up to the counter, and tries to ignore how hot his cheeks feel as he orders his drink.

It’s only when he’s back out on the street and melding into the foot traffic as he heads to his hotel--one of the smaller ones that London has to offer, but it’s Overwatch’s money putting them up for this mission, so he can’t really complain--that he risks unlocking his phone again. He looks around discreetly, slows his steps to put some distance between himself and the half-dozen people walking around him, before he lets his head lower and stares with renewed attention at the photo.

It’s a nice shot of Jesse’s spread inner thighs, his cock lying heavy and half-hard in his palm, the wide expanse of his balls laid out across the sheets beneath. The camera is close enough that Hanzo can see the coarse hair along Jesse’s skin, thick thatches around the base of his cock and the junction of his thighs; curling over his balls and along the exposed mounds of his ass cheeks, gleaming a little with a faint sheen of sweat. Hanzo stares at the photo and almost stops walking, suddenly struck by the memory of the feel of Jesse’s hair along his face--the taste against his lips, the smell in his nose, all heady and musky and masculine. His cock gives a faint throb of interest, tucked safely away in the confines of its cage, and Hanzo has to bite down on the whine as he walks faster, aching to relieve the pressure.

He’s so caught up in the memories--the salty tang of Jesse’s sweat along his tongue, the weight of Jesse’s cock prodding at his throat--that he almost doesn’t read the text below the image.

_send me a pic of ur cage in public & u’ll get a treat 2nite_

Hanzo’s breath catches in his throat. He slows his pace as he re-reads the message, then looks around--hastily, like someone could catch him, like he’s a teenager again--and focuses on keeping his footsteps even, calm, as he quickly types out a reply.

_What kind of ‘treat’?_

Hanzo makes it all of one block before his phone buzzes again; and he watches his hands faintly tremble as he unlocks the screen, and finds that he feels all at once foolish and incredibly eager, a kind of nervous energy he can’t remember feeling before bubbling in his belly. Excited, he thinks, at the thought of doing something so scandalous.

Jesse’s message is short, but effective.

_ill unlock u ;)_

It has Hanzo’s knees go weak--he actually has to stop walking for a moment, lean his shoulder against the wall of the closest building and just breathe, try to control his racing heartbeat. The cage had been something Jesse had begged for and Hanzo--at first begrudgingly--went along with, but now that he’s worn the damn thing for a few days, he’s more than ready for a break, aching to feel flesh and warmth and touch on his dick again.

(Part of him is, anyway. The other part wants nothing more than for Jesse to keep it on him forever, despite how he begs and pleads, just because he _can._ )

Hanzo starts walking again--slower now, looking up and around to assess the area, see if there’s anywhere somewhat private that immediately calls to him, a place he could duck into to fulfill Jesse’s request. As he searches, however, the most he can find in the way of seclusion is an alley to his right: narrow and dark despite the watery sunlight filtering through the clouds overhead, littered with trash along the ground. Hanzo pauses as he passes it, glancing inside fleetingly--wars with himself, with the years of dignity and nobility that still sit square upon his shoulders, the weight of a proud legacy and a name against a sinful desire so strong it has his stomach churning.

In the end, he’s weak. He always is, when it comes to Jesse.

He bows out of the sparse flow of foot traffic and dips into the alley, trying to act nonchalant, trying to keep the nervous excitement in check. It’s no easy task--he already feels flushed and hot, feels his cock trying to strain against the clear plastic cradling it--and when he ducks behind a dumpster he can’t help but look around again, to one side and then the other, as anxious as he is eager.

There’s no one walking past, at the moment--but there could be. Any moment someone could walk by, glance over and see the Shimada heir, pressed up against a dumpster and jerking his shirt up to expose the smooth planes of his stomach and chest to the cool air. It sends a rush down Hanzo’s spine, to think he might get caught; makes him bite harder into the fabric of his shirt, bunched up between his teeth so it doesn’t get in the picture.

His fingers shake as he pulls up the camera on his phone, angles it back toward himself. The lighting is poor, makes the shadows over his skin stretch out long and dark--but then Hanzo pulls down the waistband of his jeans, sees the way the dim light reflects off the clear plastic of his cage, and he doesn’t care. He takes a minute to just look at it: stares at himself locked away for Jesse’s pleasure, the way pre-cum is already starting to drool against the opening of the cage; notices how small the cage makes his cock look, nestled up snug between his thighs.

He swallows thickly and quickly snaps a few photos, trying to get everything in the shots--the flushed-dark red of his cockhead, the plastic band wrapped tight around his shaved-smooth balls, the gleaming padlock sitting squarely over the forced curve of his dick. By the time he’s walking back out onto the street, it’s with a throbbing ache between his legs and a white-hot feeling in his chest, shame and arousal warring with him in equal measure.

He feels like everyone he passes is staring at him; like they know what he just did, know what he’s wearing, know how he debases himself for another’s pleasure. Hanzo licks his lips and sends all four of the pictures to Jesse before he can talk himself out of it, just because he can’t decide on which one Jesse might like best.

He walks quicker, now--eager to get back to the hotel, off the street where everyone knows how big of a slut he is, how he gets hard from huddling beside dumpsters and taking pictures of his cock. It isn’t until he’s reached the door to the hotel that his phone buzzes again, and Hanzo’s breath catches as he reads Jesse’s simple response.

_good boy._


	2. Chapter 2

“Yeah…” Jesse sighs languidly and stretches his arms over his head, relaxing into the mattress he lies on as he watches Hanzo bounce on his lap. “Just like that, darlin’...feels good, don’t it? Look’it your little dick swing…”

Hanzo moans in reply, dropping his head back to bare the expanse of his throat. With his arms braced behind him and knees spread wide, he can take Jesse’s cock deeper into his body; but the tradeoff is that it forces him to display his body obscenely, chest and hips arched up like a lewd offering to a sex-crazed god named McCree. He glances down at himself and bites his lip, watches the way his cock bobs in the air, hard and arching up toward his belly and finally, _finally_ , free.

“Fuck, sugar…” Jesse’s hand slaps heavy against Hanzo’s ass, makes him yelp--Jesse squeezes the plush muscle, pulls him into the rolling of his hips, guiding him faster. “Feel so fuckin’ good on me, Han...fuckin’ perfect whore with a fuckin’ perfect ass, just for me, ain’t’cha?” He pauses to let out a breathless little chuckle, squeezes the meat of Hanzo’s hips as he continues to babble, “My good little slut, takin’ pictures of himself out in public, where anyone could see his little cock locked up, just ‘cause I told him to...”

Jesse’s voice trails off into a low growl of possession, and he bucks his hips harder, fucking up into Hanzo with a kind of raw urgency--and all Hanzo can do is dig his nails into the muscle of Jesse’s thighs and hang on, take the pounding and let the _ah-ah-ah_ be fucked out of him, forced from his throat by Jesse’s brutal thrusts. He has half a mind to answer--wants, in his cock-drunk state of mind, to agree, to beg for more, to say whatever Jesse wants to hear if it will get him to cum. But all he can manage to do is lean further back, stare down at himself and watch the slight bulge to his lower belly as that impossibly large cock rams up into him, spreads him wide and makes him take, take, _take_ , until Jesse’s balls are pressed up snug against the curve of his ass and he has nothing left to give.

“Yeah, that’s it, _fuck_ ,” Jesse murmurs, clinging to Hanzo’s hips and moving him in small, tight circles, grinding them together and never once lifting his gaze from Hanzo’s flushed, drooling cock. “You’re takin’ it so deep...so good for me, baby, so hot....”

Hanzo rolls his hips down--squeezes, scratches his nails along Jesse’s thighs like something vicious--and it seems to break the last of Jesse’s resolve. He flips them, his hairy bulk blanketing across Hanzo’s back and pressing him down into the bed as he pistons his hips, fucking into Hanzo hard and machinelike, quick little snaps that drive Hanzo’s face again and again against the bed.

“This is how you wanted it, ain’t it,” he pants, lips moving against the back of Hanzo’s neck, his beard coarse against the sensitive, sweat-slick skin. “Good and hard...to remind you who you belong to, when you’re runnin’ around takin’ pictures of your sweet little cock where anyone could see…”

“J-- _Jesse_ ,” Hanzo chokes out, clawing at the sheets as Jesse drives deeper, harder, into his fucked-pliant hole. The friction of the sheets below him is almost too much on his cock--oversensitive from days of being locked away, straining for release--and yet still not enough, keeping him on the cusp of orgasm.

“Mm...what is it, doll?” Jesse slows his thrusting, settles for rolling his hips almost lazily into the warm clutch of Hanzo’s ass, gliding deep. He runs his metal fingertips down Hanzo’s back, chasing a bead of sweat through the valley of his spine and delighting in the way those toned muscles shiver.

Hanzo swallows thickly, turns his head so his cheek is pressed against the bed. “...I-I…” His voice is wrecked, and he doesn’t care; only cares about Jesse’s cock buried to the hilt in him, a solid presence but motionless. Only cares about how close he is to a release he hasn’t had in days, how just the lightest touch to his cock would have him cumming harder than he has in months. “...touch me, Jesse…”

And Jesse coos at him, leans down to press a wet kiss behind Hanzo’s jaw, breath damp as it washes over his ear. “And why would I do that, sugar? You ain’t allowed to cum yet.”

The authority in Jesse’s voice--his casual dominance, easy command--is enough to have Hanzo’s teeth sinking into his bottom lip, biting down hard to try to stifle his whine. He loves when Jesse gets like this, firm and commanding obedience; when he’s assertive and to be obeyed without question, pushing Hanzo deep enough to forget about his regality, his surname, the appearances he was groomed to uphold.

It’s a refreshing break, for the both of them.

“But…” Hanzo hates how weak his voice sounds; how breathy he is, how Jesse can so easily strip away the strength and power that took him years, a lifetime, to cultivate. He squirms beneath the bulk of the other man, trying to subtly grind his cock against the damp sheet under him--until Jesse’s hand is on his lower back, nails digging into Hanzo’s hip and forcing him still.

“...but you…” Hanzo swallows thickly, tries again. “...you said--”

That rumbling, warm laugh interrupts him, makes his insides twist. “Aw, darlin’...I said I’d unlock you, not let you cum.” Jesse gives Hanzo’s ass a fond pat with his flesh hand. Lingering mirth makes his voice light. “Did you really think it’d be that easy?”

Jesse’s voice is honey-sweet, with the kind of light teasing tone that has Hanzo flushing darker, heat trailing down his neck to bloom across the broad muscles of his chest and shoulders. Jesse chuckles at the display, gives his hips a lazy little roll, sighs at the way Hanzo’s hole tightens around him--he can tell Hanzo’s close. They both are.

“Nah--you’re gonna need to do more than just snap a quick pic in an alley for me to let you nut, Han,” he says, grinning wickedly at the way Hanzo’s body trembles, how his fingers twist and claw at the bedsheets, the strained, urgent expression that darts across his face; it’s a look he’s seen on Hanzo many times before, one he recognizes immediately. “Ah-ah...!”

And Jesse reaches down quickly, grabbing at the warm weight of Hanzo’s tight, smooth-shaven balls--and pulls hard, twists, stretches the skin until Hanzo’s cry is shrill and pained and he’s curling in on himself, falling from the brink of orgasm gracelessly. The sight--the jumping muscle along Hanzo’s shoulders and arms, the tremble to his body, his weak, betrayed little keen--is more than enough to have Jesse cumming, rolling his hips forward just that bit more to seat himself entirely in Hanzo and spill deep within him.

After, they’re both a mess. Jesse’s covered in sweat, his hair plastered to his forehead, and Hanzo looks out of his mind and close to tears; he’s got his hands wrapped around his poor drooling cock, fingers twitching like he doesn’t know whether he should stroke himself or not--like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to. His wet, dark eyes flick over to Jesse’s face, and Jesse watches the way his smooth chest rises and falls heavily, like he can’t gulp in quite enough air, and feels a faint smile tugging at his lips as he decides to help.

“Shh, darlin’...shh…” Jesse rolls over and lets the broad warmth of his arm drape across Hanzo’s chest, reaches up to gently cup his cheek. He runs a thumb across Hanzo’s lips, and smiles at the wet, needy noise it draws from Hanzo’s throat. “Shh, babydoll. I gotcha.”

He tucks himself up snug against Hanzo’s side, still petting softly over his face as his free hand fumbles behind him, until his fingers close around cool plastic. He brings the cage back into Hanzo’s line of sight and watches his eyes widen, the gulp of his throat.

“That’s it,” Jesse murmurs, taking Hanzo’s rapidly-softening cock in hand; the archer’s belly flutters with his quick, shivery breaths, and Jesse presses another kiss to his cheek to soothe him as he gently tucks Hanzo’s cock back into the clear curve of the cage. “There we go...let’s get you locked back up, baby. Maybe you’ll get to cum tomorrow.”


End file.
